r head on his shoulder, her fingers idly tracing patterns on his chest. He was awake, staring at the ce

murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

reflexively, "don't wear yourself out. You're M

d his jaw. "I like having my own money, remember?" It was the perfect excuse

op open. She wasn't looking at job listings. She was studying blueprints of The Alib

welding fumes. Damon was fine-tuning the engine of a c

e told a story of a hard life, the narrative punctuated by a long, pale scar

fender. "Good work, Damon. Your h

d, not looking u

id, his tone casual, "big step

" Damon replied

gs happen. But a wife... she costs money. Expenses go up.

tened up, wiping his hands on a rag, and met Mitch's gaze. This was

ind of

. "Some cars need to get from point A to point B. Quietly. No questions as

t, letting a flicker of greed

y. "One trip pays more tha

f the woman at home. "I need the money," he said, his voice rough. "My wife...

spiratorial welcome. "That's a good man. I'll be in

had taken the bait. He waited a few minutes, then walked to the garag

spark plugs," he said into

arget has made contact.

e Alibi Café was bustling, a trendy spot filled with the aroma of roasted coffee an

fessional heavy. She saw the way the waitstaff communicated with subtle hand gestures. She s

here a man in a crisp shirt was o

e. "Excuse me," she said, her voice full of hopefu

ing from surveillan

on's mission was about to move from

-